Into the dark night
by Cyllwen
Summary: Hogan finds out a terrifying secret... not beta read. I own nothing.
1. chapter 1

How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams. -Bram Stoker

Part One

Newkirk felt Alder's arrival. The madness slipped over his better half like poison dropped into a Sherry glass. It woke the Englishman from his exausted sleep, like being thrown into cold water.

"No, no, no, no. Not tonight." He whispered in frustration to one of the bed corners. "Not now." It was not a good night for his little world to end, he was too tired. Not to mention what the guvner would think...

"Newkirk! Newkirk!" Schultz broke the cold silence of an early October morning. His voice rang out like the fire alarm bell. And as it faded away so did any chance of this being a bad dream.

It was just nearly five and the group had just come in an hour before, after a successful but harrowing mission in Dusseldorf.

The terror in the Sargeant's voice kept the grumbling and nasty comments to a minimum. Instead the prisoners flooded him with a chorus of "What is wrong?" as he burst into the barracks

Except for Peter who locked eyes with the German Bär and asked without needing an answer. "Alder in the Kommendant's office?"

"Yes. And I have no idea what happened, he got a letter from Berlin earlier but nothing out of the ordinary I don't think. I don't know what to do." The usual easy going man was pale, far beyond his usual bouts of cowardism.

Newkirk, still fully dressed, slid right out of bed and onto the floor boots first. He patted Schultz on his round shoulder, an understanding look in his eyes. "It had to 'appen eventually. I'll take care of it Schultzy." The British man was keenly aware of the guvner standing in the doorway of his quarters, his stare like daggers.

Secrets were common place among the men but nothing ever serious. Serious secrets became dangerous secrets very quickly. And this whole exchange smacked of secrets to the Colonel. But he was a careful man in the midst of a situation, something Newkirk hoped lasted long enough to defuse Alder's wrath. The beast had not run free for...

Schultz interrupted his thoughts. "Thank you Newkirk." He relaxed but then tensed up again. "But he is going to be so angry with me. He told me, never never tell anybody!" He was working his way into a tizzy. "Now he will have to explain things to Colonel Hogan. You will have to explain things to Colonel Hogan." Schultz swallowed and noticed their observer. "Oh hello Colonel Hogan."

Newkirk slipped out around Schultz in that moment of distraction and made for the office, trusting (hoping) that Schultz had ordered the guards not to shoot him. He wasn't at the top of his game as it was and if Alder had truly broken free, he was going to need to be as close as possible.

"Colonel Hogan! Colonel Hogan! You cannot leave the Barracks! Colonel Hogan! Alder has very sharp teeth! Colonel Hogan, let Newkirk handle it! Colonel Hogan."

His guvner was on his heels, but he didn't spare him any special attention. He couldn't afford to. He just hoped he could stop Alder without actually going into the office.

Hid mind was searching, probing the animal mind he felt in the office for any sign of Kommendant Klink.It was there, faint as a flickering flame, nearly consumed by the force of the storm that was the beast. The mind Newkirk touched was raging, in his weakened state it nearly carried him away with it...the rage...the hunger...the pain. He tore himself away with a gasp. That approach certainly was not going to work.

"Newkirk tell me what is going on!" His guvner ordered, angry, hurt and afraid as they stepped into building. It was like a knife in Peter's heart. He slowed down ever so slightly to spare a look at the Colonel, begging for understanding. The slow turned to a stop, blue eyes met brown.

It was a mistake. They barely had time to start moving to the back office when Alder broke out. The majestic salt and pepper beast exploded from the door. He sent splintered pieces of it flying and washed like an avalanche of teeth and foaming jaws towards Colonel Hogan, sensing weakness...sensing humanity.

Peter reacted quickly. He shoved Hogan hard over Helga's desk. He tumbled head over heels towards the floor on the opposite side. It cost the Corporal the time to dodge.

Alder hit Newkirk like a truck, his jaws clamping down on the area where the shoulder and neck joined, his wicked teeth tearing into chest, neck and back alike

Newkirk couldn't hold back a scream, even as he scrambled to grab any part of Alder he could use the push the beast off of him, finally grabbing him under the jaw.

"Change" Newkirk shouted in desperation, pushing command into it. The power of the voice was undirected, not focused enough and it drained him, badly.

But Alder's grip loosened for an instant before he brought his teeth down again. "CHANGE!" He tried again, even more frantically. He chased it with a blow to Alder's throat.

Alder staggered back, head shaking, human features fighting the beast's. "Change" The command this time was small, nearly silent and full of more pleading than command. Blood soaked the Englishman's sweater, welling from the deep tooth marks in his torso. His voice was weak and his eyes were growing heavy.

This time the spell struck true and Alder flowed backed completely into Kommendant Klink, in all his human monocle wearing glory. His face was that of a broken man, all rage and anger gone, just pain remaining.

He knelt on the floor in the outer office among the splintered remains of the inner door. He blinked bewildered, confusion clouding his features. "Was ist los?" He gasped.

Newkirk could no longer find the strength to do anything but groan. Then he closed his eyes, too weak to resist the power of the dawn.

"Oh mein Gott!" Klink's voice was shrill with panic as he grabbed the white scarf from around his neck. He tore the jumper that Newkirk wore at the collar with one tug and covered as much of the bite with the scarf as he could, pressing down with trembling fingers.

Schultz stuck his arm and part of his head into the room, holding a trauma kit from the infirmary, ready to flee at a moment's notice. Spezielle Verwendung was spelled out on its side. "Is it safe? Are you yourself again?"

"Yes I'm me again." Klink snarled. "It's safe. No thanks to you dumkoff." He put a hand out. "Blood! Quickly! Don't worry about the needle, we don't have time."

Schultz pulled out a unit of blood and handed to the Kommendant. Klink ripped it open and began to pour it on the wounds themselves. "I am sorry Kommendant. Alder would have killed me."

"I nearly killed him!" Klink shouted. "You could have done something. You know the blood rations have been too low."

"Kommendant, either Alder would have killed me or I would have killed him. Newkirk had the best chance."

Colonel Hogan managed to right himself, a little worse for the wear for having landed mostly on his head. The last few moments were a dizzy swirl of screams, snarling, exploding doors and Schultz sounding far too serious. He shook his head to assist in his brain's journey from the valley of confusion. A second later, he wished that the valley was where he stayed.

The wolf was gone, leaving only Klink, Schultz, Hogan and Newkirk, who was lying on his back doing his best to bleed to death, his blue sweater turning purple.

"Newkirk!" His voice cracked with adrenaline and fear. Hogan moved to join Klink by his man's side, slidding over the desk, scattering paperwork. Panic like ice froze his veins. He nearly made it.

"Schultz grab him!" Klink ordered sharply, no sign of his normal bearing on his face. His features were cold. "Newkirk wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to Hogan. He would never forgive me."

"Jawol Herr Kommendant." Schultz grabbed Hogan's arm with surprising strength and pulled him away from the pair on the floor. "He is right Colonel Hogan. Newkirk might hurt you and he would not forgive himself."

"What is going on Schultz? How could he hurt me? Why would he hurt me?" Hogan's head was spinning. Seldom in his life had he felt so out of his depth.

"Not on purpose Colonel Hogan. Never on purpose."

"Schultz please..."

Schultz pulled him farther towards Klink's office. "You want the straight answer?" The reversal from the normal situation was too severe to help Hogan's dizziness.

"Yes."

Schultz smirked, a sad kind of smirk. "Der Oberst ist ein Werwolf und der Korporal ist ein Vampir."

Hogan's spoken German wasn't very good but he understood it fine...but what Schultz said was impossible. Werewolf? Vampire? "

"Can I get that straight answer in English?" He tried to twist away from Schultz but the grip that held him was gentle but immovable.

Schultz winked at Hogan. "I think Colonel Hogan, that you know what I said."

"Yeah. I just really wish I hadn't. How long? How?" His mind swam with impossible reality. The image of the wolf, the knowing look on Schultz's face, just how fast Newkirk moved to shove him away from from the dog...

"Don't worry so much Colonel. Newkirk will be alright in the long run. We will get him some blood.In a few days he will be fine and his biggest problem will be...well you. He really didn't want you to find out."

Vampire...

Klink interrupted. "Dummer Bär! We need to get him someplace where there aren't humans everywhere. If he comes to he may be dangerous." He pressed the scarf tightly around Newkirk's wound, tangling it in the ruined remains of the Englishman's jumper.

Humans... Words echoed in Hogan's head, formless words he had to force his mind to latch onto. He hoped, knowing better, to wake up on the floor in a few minutes or back in his bunk.

"Schultz we need more blood. Get a medic and some volunteers, tell them Newkirk was attacked by one of the dogs." Klink lifted Newkirk as if he weighed nothing, blood staining his hands and the sleeves of his uniform. "I'll take him to the cooler. We won't have time to clean the wesen but he will have to deal with it. Better confused than dead."

Hogan watched Klink walk away, feeling unsteady. "Schultz I would really like all of this to make sense."

"It won't Colonel. At least not until it's too late." Schultz patted him on the back. " You'll volunteer to give blood ja?"

"I'm not the right type Schultz."

"He is Wer Blut braucht Colonel...Vampire. Blood type doesn't matter anymore."

End of Part One

Nevertheless, life and death are mysterious states, and we know little of the resources of either. - J. Sheridan Le Fanu, Carmilla


	2. Chapter Two

We should never try to deny the beast – the animal within us. - Dr. George Waggner, The Howling

Part Two

Newkirk was not really awake. His eyes were open and he was aware of Hogan and Klink bickering. He knew he was in the cooler, on a bunk in the back cell. Klink had locked him in here before, before he could withstand the dawn sickness or when the hunger got too great. But he was more aware of the pain in his half healed shoulder, the hum of blood memories in the back of his mind threatening to surge to the foreground and the ever present hunger that was even sharper than usual.

Still, it was controllable, they must have given him quite a bit of blood. His identity swam as his control wavered, for one moment he was himself, then Carter, LeBeau, Hogan, Kinch. He could almost step right out of himself and into those moments of being them. He could see himself through their eyes.

It was the reason, he assumed, that most vampires were bloody crackers. They were less people and more walking committees of fragments of other people. With every feeding a vampire changed, became a little bit of their victims, a little less of themselves. The worst ones were the vampires convinced that they could control it, that they were above the influence of the blood memories. The best ones fed as little as possible and surrendered to their fate, learning to compartmentalize the memories.

Newkirk didn't fight them or try to control them now that he had slipped into them, he just allowed them to roll over him. He saw, felt, tasted things the lads would never want anyone else to know, secrets, sins, shame, fears and loves. He would experience them, know them and then tuck them all away where he would pretend to forget them.

He sunk down into deep sleep, sleep not brought on by the power of the sun but healing sleep, until raised voices roused him. His keen ears gave him a general idea of what was taking place. Klink was yelling at Schultz. Hogan was trying to calm Klink down. Klink was yelling at Hogan. Schultz was inhaling a sandwich by the sounds of it, fairly unconcerned by all of the yelling.

Newkirk licked his lips and tried to talk, to get their attention. But he was still too weak, his voice strained by his use of unfettered magic earlier. It would be hours yet before he could properly speak, maybe another day.

Klink's wolf ears caught the change in Newkirk's breathing and he stopped mid bellow. He called out "Peter?" It was not usual for the two of them to use first names, Klink must be feeling insecure.

A moment went by and Klink opened the cell door. He was in his dressing gown now, clean and alert. The Kommendant was much recovered from how he was when Peter had seen him earlier.

Newkirk lacked the ability to respond aloud so he projected through their tie. /I am awake Kommendant./

Thr wolf scowled in response. "None of that. You don't have the blood to spare for spells, even that one." Klink's scowl deepened as his head appeared over Newkirk's. "And too many men will ask questions if we try to get you anymore. Did you get enough to heal?"

Newkirk nodded and winced at the movement. If it had been just a wolf bite it would have healed nearly instantaneously, even with his normal blood ration. But Klink's cursed nature was nearly as dangerous to a vampire as silver, worse in certain occasions.

If he was better fed he would have been up hours before. But he refused to hunt the way his "siblings" did, and that limited his options for sustenance. Besides what was forced on him at the Castle six months ago at his rebirth, his repast came only from the transfusions Klink scared up for him every two weeks or so. 13 feedings in the six months he had been a vampire, 14 counting today. It wasn't near enough.

He nearly vanished beneath the weakness, overcome by the memories and his own drifting thoughts. But then a very important voice ran cautiously out into the cell, jolting him back to reality.

"Newkirk?" Hogan sounded odd to Peter, meek and unsure of himself. His form was a dark shadow against the bright lights in the hall, the termoil in his heart a palpable smell. Newkirk would hear the tremor in his voice.

"Guv'ner." He mouthed. Concern spread through him. Uncertainty as to what the guvner would think. About how he would handle what Newkirk was, what he had become. The scattered pieces of Hogan's blood memories did little to assage his suspicions.

Hogan looked away towards the far wall. "Klink tells me that you couldn't have told me what happened, that someone placed a geas on you."

Newkirk swallowed hard and managed to say. "It's a bloody lie sir." Talking was like swallowing glass but he managed to be loud enough that Hogan made it out.

Klink gave Newkirk a displeased look but kept his physical mouth shut. /It was a perfect excuse./ He sulked, sitting on the edge of the cot.

It was a nice gesture, especially considering six months earlier the two of them were barely on speaking terms. It's amazing what secrets, horrifying experiences and death, could do to bring people together.

But if Hogan was going to know the truth, he was going to know the whole truth. No matter what he ended up thinking about Newkirk.

Hogan nodded, he hadn't believed Klink. Nothing that had happened to the Kommendant had made the German a better liar. He was a great omitter of truth, but a terrible liar.

Still, a part of Hogan would have liked it to have been true. It was better than thinking Newkirk had kept his commanding officer in the dark, that he had chosen not to trust Hogan. Though he had no idea how someone would bring up the subject of 'By the way I became a vampire while you were in Paris, please don't send me back to London in a padded wagon'. Guilt attempted to choke him, no matter how it had happened he was sure it wasn't pleasant and sure he could have prevented it if he had refused the mission to leave Stalag 13 for those three weeks.

"When you feel better we have a lot to talk about." Hogan's voice was more composed now, more in control, more disappointed sounding. "Get some rest first." He worked up the courage to look his man in the face. There he saw defeat and pain battling with exaustion behind his eyes.

Newkirk knodded solemnly. It would be as he feared since VonSchloss had killed him in Dunkler Wald and fed him the Mondblut to bring him back again. He was going to loose everything.

Klink bared his teeth at Hogan. The gesture was made far less terrifyingly by his human face than it would have been on his canine one, but still surprising enough for Hogan to take a step backwards. There was a great deal of raw agression still left over from his unplanned shift, and very human frustration.

He could smell Hogan's disappointment and Newkirk's pain. "Are you finished? He is not up for visitors. I told you to wait out there with Schultz." Klink snapped. The wolf bristled, unhappy as to the state of his pack member.

"Stop treating me like a puppy Kommendant." Newkirk whispered. "I will be fine in a little bit." He squeezed Klink's wrist, begging him to calm down.

"You will be asleep in a little bit, fine maybe in a few days. Dawn is in a few minutes." Klink gave Hogan a hard look. "And stop talking, you are fortunate you didn't damage your throat more than you did."

Newkirk nodded and allowed his eyes to slide shut. The dawn sickness washed back over him as the first light of the sun pierced through the morning clouds.

"Damaged his throat?" Hogan looked at Klink in surprise. "How?"

"You have a lot to learn Hogan, especially about vampires. Wolves like myself and bears like Schultz are easy to figure out. We are wolves and bears. Vampires are the tricky ones, especially Edler Vampir like Newkirk."

"Elder?"

"Edler. Don't pretend you don't know what I am saying. I know what goes on in this camp, I can smell it. Smells where no prisoner should be. Newkirk won't tell me anything but I can smell it. I smell you everywhere, outside the wire, in town, by blown up factories. Everywhere I smell prisoners." Klink shooed Hogan completely out of the cell and closed it behind him. He fixed Hogan with a hard look through his monocle. A thousand ways to start the conversation ran through his mind and were instantaneously scrapped. Finally he just started.

"Hogan, I have no more love for the Third Reicht to bleed out. It all died in Schloss-Albtraum. I have had my own secrets to hide from the Father Land. So do not treat me like a Fool. I do not care about your secrets. But Newkirk and I share secrets. If you know his, then you know mine. I begged him not to tell you. Frankly I am surprised he agreed. He respects you very much and he is very afraid of how you are going to react. Some basic information may help you when you two talk come nightfall. If you take it badly and make a mess of it I will feed you to Schultz."

Hogan squinted at him, weighing all the new information he had gotten the last twenty four hours, sensing the lack of any true threat in Klink's words. He wished he could forget most of it. But no ignorant man ever had the upper hand in anything. "Very well. What do I need to know?"

End of Part Two

I want you to believe...to believe in things that you cannot. - Bram Stoker, Dracula


	3. chapter three

I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become. - C.G. Jung

Part Three

That evening Klink poured them both a drink in his office. It had been a long day for both of them. The men had wanted to see Newkirk and had been confused by Hogan's agreement with Klink that he was to have no visitors. It wore on Hogan like an anchor around his neck. He downed two Sherrys in very short order.

Klink watched him in silence then licked his lips and took a seat, gesturing for Hogan to do the same. "Remember I told you this afternoon that all of this happened when they supposedly transferred you to Stalag 9 for a month."

"I remember." Hogan helped himself to another drink."Things did seem odd for a while when I got back but I chocked that up to you splitting the boys up and Newkirk having been in the cooler for so long."

Klink smiled, bitter and mirthless."There was a lot of misdirection that went on, first by VonSchloss and then later by Newkirk and myself." Klink took a sip of his own libation. "It all started the day you left. Major VonSchloss came here looking for you, Colonel Hogan. He got your name from a Gestapo file. He was an obsessive man, very unhappy you were gone. He thought you were perfect for his expiraments."

Hogan tried to not think about what would have happened to him had he not gone to Paris. He had seen Newkirk without his jumper and undershirt when Klink had bandaged him. Every inch of his skin that Hogan could see was covered with scars, white and silver, puckered and smooth. They had not been so plentiful several months ago, though one could always tell that Peter had lived a hard life.

Klink finished his glass, staring intently down at the desk. "Newkirk was in my office when he arrived. I understand that the Corporal 'drew the short straw'. I was upset one of the Sargents wasn't doing it." If he concentrate Klink could see it all clear as the day it happened. "But he is good at keeping quiet when necessary, far better than you I might add. The Major barely noticed him at all, when he stormed into the office. It probably would have just blown over, and VonSchloss would have just left but Carter had forgotten something for the list." Klink paused again, struggling to continue. The memories were like oil, they stuck to you, left you feeling unclean. He lit a cigar just to delay speaking.

"He came in and VonSchloss, angry at the interruption, hit at him with a riding crop. Newkirk came to Carter's rescue and took it away from him, so quickly it took VonSchloss a moment to realize what happened." Klink poured them both another round and the stared at the stream of smoke snaking from his cigar.

"There was confusion, shouting and all the sudden Carter was gone, Newkirk was shouting at him to run. Then Newkirk was on the floor with one of The Gestapo kicking him. VonSchloss took Newkirk and myself in for 'questioning', supposedly to Berlin. But they took us to Dunkler Wald instead. I think they took me because VonSchloss was embarrassed that I saw Newkirk disarm him." Klink swallowed hard,his lips curling over his teeth. But the best could not scare what was inside of him.

"I'm not sure of the time. It comes in flashes, Newkirk was put into the same cell as myself, though sometime later. It could have been hours or days after we arrived. They had been interrogating him about the sabotage cell in the area of Stalag 13, and when he wouldn't talk just for the sheer pleasure of it."

Hogan tried to pacify his flip flopping stomach with more alcohol. Guilt and horror battled for the right to make him vomit first. He could barely keep dinner in it's proper place. Part of him demanded, screamed, that he open his mouth and beg, please with Klink to stop talking. But he clamped his jaw tightly shut instead, teeth grinding together. He had to know. He had to understand.

"He was covered in blood, and something inside his chest sounded broken. VonSchloss came in and gave us both injections. The shot felt like knives." Klink stopped to compose himself again, biting into his bottom lip. "It's fairly obvious what those were for."

"Take a break Kommendant. I'll fill in the next bit." A voice spoke so close to Hogan's ear that the Colonel jumped out of his chair. Behind him, on the cabinet, sat Newkirk. The Englishman grinned at Hogan as he began the ritual of removing a cigarette from a pack that was clearly Hogan's and lightning it. "Figured you two would be in here, talking shop, dredging up unpleasant memories." He took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled slowly. "Granted the Kommendant does have the bad 'abit of glossing over the more, shall we call them unsavory, parts."

"He hardly needs the whole description Newkirk." Klink bit out, though obviously glad to have the narrative taken from him. "We went there, you died, you woke up, the other vampires killed everyone and we escaped. Why complicate it with..."

"All the bloody details?" Newkirk's eyes glowed in the ember of his cigarette. They were impossibly predatory as he watched the Kommendant for a long, very uncomfortable minute. Finally Klink looked away. "You're right of course. The basics will do. I died with the rising sun and awoke again with the moon. In a way Klink did as well, though more in a metaphysical sense. It hurt, a lot."

Newkirk seemed to drift for a second, staring at the far wall thoughtfully. But he began talking in a few moments."The really interesting matters, and less nightmare inducing, began when we got back to camp. Klink was in trouble with General Bulkhalter, though we fixed that quickly, and I couldn't stay consious from dawn to dusk. And the blood lust...don't even get me started. It was like burning from the inside."

Hogan inched closer to Klink, hoping the movement would go unnoticed. But Newkirk turned his piercing stare to him and Klink rolled his eyes, though neither of them said anything. Peter puffed thoughtfully from his cigarette, it was burning at an alarming rate. He continued. "Thankful we had an unexpected ally in Schultz...and I was beginning to make sense of some my linage blood memories. The scientists mixed two strains of HVV so I have two sets to sort through. We found the best mix between what could be covered up with paperwork and what I needed to behave like a 'uman being again."

Newkirk hopped off his perch and found another glass and a decanter of something stronger than sherry. Then poured himself a drink, a double. "One transfusion every two weeks. Stored long enough that the blood memories are few."

Hogan frowned, running numbers in his head. "Can't Schultz and Klink give you more blood than that? And by transfusion do you mean with a needle?"

"Were blood is like booze, cigarettes and candy. It's not food. Human blood is what is needed to keep the hunger at bay, for me to heal or do magic. I could drink poor Schultzy dry and get nothing but a lovely high followed by a nasty hangover. And yes, with a needle. Better to leave my fangs shealthed as much as possible."

"Magic?" Hogan tried to concentrate on the one part of what Peter had just said, and ignore as much of the rest of it as possible.

Newkirk knew what he was doing and sighed. This was a bitter truth but it would be necessary in the long run to give Hogan all the information. He continued. "You heard right me Colonel. Magic is very real. It's how I got into this room without you noticing, or how I got Alder to let go of Klink."

"Or how Gestapo agents looking right at us in Hammelburg don't see anything?" Hogan thought back to a luck break from a recent mission, and how distracted Newkirk had seemed at a crucial moment. He had given him the third degree over that. Peter had born it in silence.

Newkirk nodded, knowing what his CO was thinking about. He didn't relish the memory anymore than the guv'ner did."Wite ya 're. That was tricky to do right in front of you, without wiping your memory. Each of those is a different sort of spell. Walking in ere without you noticing is as easy as breathing. Giving Klink the command, like the other morning, is very tricky and can have some nasty side effects. What I did with our Gestapo friend is easy but takes a fair bit of concentration or it's easy to over do it. Even staying awake during the day takes magic. And all magic takes blood." Peter downed his drink and put out the stub of his cigarette. He immediately lit another.

It struck Hogan, suddenly, how incredibly nervous Newkirk was. He was smoking cigarettes like they were going out of style, and he kept shifting like he couldn't sit still. It was like he was the only human in a room full of monsters.

Newkirk caught the thought, it hit him like a blow to the gut. Hogan had no idea how much he projected. The man thought as loudly as he crowed. The British Corporal stiffened, feeling how tender his body still was, how tired he still felt in the middle of the night. It was a wearyness that reached to the marrow.

Klink growled, a sound no human vocal cord could reproduce. It was like thunder in his chest. Hogan jumped, this time away from Klink. It put him close enough to reach out and grab Newkirk by the sleeve when he realized the Corporal was headed for the floor.

Klink moved, far to quickly for a man his age, and grabbed his other arm. "Dumkoff. You shouldn't have gotten out of bed." He guided Peter into one of the chairs. "Maybe if you fed like a sane vampire."

"No such bloody thing. We are all crackers one way or another."

Klink gripped Newkirk's arm harder than necessary and he winced. Klink ignored it, though he loosened his grip. "What happened the other night?" He demanded. "You were already weak when you came for Alder."

Newkirk sighed and rubbed his face with one hand. "Vark." He all but whispered.

"Vark?" Klink's face screwed up with confusion. "What is Vark?"

This was one question that Hogan knew the answer to. His stomach leaped into his throat. Every kid ever forced into English class knew that what Vark was made of, and vampires did not mix. "Edible silver, in the champagne. The toast at the hoffbrau." He swore in English, German and a healthy variety of Russian.

"Colonel Hogan!" Klink admonished.

Newkirk just cuckled. "I didn't get much. Should have been right as rain in a day or two."

"You don't need much. You can be killed by a silver plated ink pen. What were you thinking drinking it?" Klink sighed, his face stern.

"I would 'ave blown my cover if I 'adn't. Too many people to charm all at once. It was worth the risk."

"Like either side would care if they knew what you were." Klink snapped and rolled his eyes. "I am going to confine you to the cooler for seven days. Hogan, you will have to pretend to fight me on it, but it's too dangerous to put him back in the barracks. Maybe we can get some more blood from one of the Bear's wives, several of them are human. I'll go ask Schultz to put out a word with the mail courier. Hogan stay with him for a few, but not within arm length." Klink strolled out of the office without waiting for acknowledgment.

Hogan watched him go and then looked at Newkirk."What did he mean by that?" He asked, afraid he already knew the answer. Subconsciously he took a step towards the door.

Newkirk couldn't blame him. It was natural for the Colonel to be nervous, even afraid. It was hardwired into humans to be afraid of the night and the night creatures, the darkness and what it contained. He didn't answer Hogan. He just turned his tired gaze to the floor.

They waited like that for several minutes. Then an unanswered question probed at Hogan's mind.

"Wait if you and Klink became..." Monsters, he left the word unspoken but saw Newkirk flinch anyways. The idea that vampires may be able to read minds sent a chill down his spine, and a stab of guilt through his heart."...what you are at this Castle. What about Schultz?"

Newkirk chuckled, his pinched face relaxing some. "Schultz was born a bear Colonel."

That's when the far wall of the office exploded.

End of Part Three

The pendulum of the mind oscillates between sense and nonsense, not between right and wrong. - C.G. Jung


	4. Chapter four

In individuals, insanity is rare; but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule. - Friedrich Nietzsche

Part Four

The dark woman stood outside the destroyed wall as her children searched the wreckage of the building for her prize. Her fine silk dress was covered in ash from the explosion.

Her spell had taken down about half of the office, covering everything in soot and dust. It didn't take long for Tod, large and powerful, and Henry, a vampire shaped like a whip with limbs, to uncover their half-brother, curled protectively around the human he had been conversing with a few minutes before.

"Great King! You are a mess Peter." She shook her head in mock disapproval. Tod held him up with a massive arm wrapped around the much smaller man. Newkirk's head rolled against the other vampire's shoulder. He looked half dead, uniform torn and dirty. She studied him, looking for what made him so interesting to the King. She found it in his defiant blue stare.

She grinned wickedly, red stained lips twisting up towards her black eyes. It was fortunate that she found him so, injured and half starved. He had resisted the King as a fledgling, though the King had played fair. That was not a mistake she intended to make.

He managed to speak, a low class accent that clashed with the intelligence she saw in his face, intelligence and scorn. "Let me guess, you're Mum."

"No strength to stand but enough will to give me sass. I am a Countess!" She slapped him across the face, manicured nails slicing across his cheek. Tod was the only thing that kept him from tumbling over. "You will show the proper respect."

"I thought I already was." He bit back, trying to shake off the blow.

She licked the blood from her fingertips like fine chocolate. She tasted his linage.

He was in the dark and he couldn't breathe. That crackers scientist had given him something and now even the pain had stopped. It was all kind of numb, even the knife wound in his back felt like a kind of pressure.

Flashes came, feelings and images washed over him, trying to peel his sanity from his being like the skin off a grape. He was a man, strong and ancient. He was a woman, desirable and immortal. He was a million others besides. If he could have moved, could draw breath, he would have screamed until his throat bled. He would have given anything at that very moment for it to stop.

"All creatures have a breaking point, my dear Van Helsing. The truly courageous man reaches his when he is too far gone for it to do his enemy any good."

" I know your kind Countess Karnstein. You could drink the whole world dry and never be satisfied. No creature has ever been more suited to being a vampire."

"Lord Ruthven I thought you were dead!"

"Die Todten reiten schnell."

"On VonSchloss, you madman!" She grinned. "And we all assumed you only had two of the Grand Strains! How did he get all three? Though the third is less than pure." She twirled around in child like glee. "What is holding you together my boy? Your very blood should be at war with itself."

"Crackers." He mumbled. "Every single one of them, ruddy crackers." He tried to untangle himself from Tod, trying to look back towards the human, who had begun to wake.

She licked his face, healing the cuts there and tasting far more recent thoughts. "What makes them so important to you? This guv'ner? These humans?" She whispered into his ear. "Don't you realize what you are?"

"Well enough to realize what that makes you." He spat on her face, blood and saliva spattering against a perfect smoky eye. "Go to hell darling."

She snarled in rage, grabbing him by the front of his shirt, tearing him away from Tod. His feet left the ground as she threw him back into the ruined office where he hit the far wall with a crack.

Hogan was mostly uninjured but for the ringing in his ears and the aching in his head. Newkirk's body, Hogan had no idea how fast he had moved, had protected him from everything else.

He couldn't hear anything at all until Newkirk slid off the wall, tumbled off the cabinet and onto the floor (palming one of Carter's confinscated arrows on his way down). If Hogan hadn't seen it a thousand times before he wouldn't have noticed it at all.

And even though when Newkirk looked like death warmed over, the Englishman couldn't entirely disguise a smirk. Whatever was going on, Peter had more control over the situation than the beautiful, scary as Hades woman could imagine. But she had shown up expecting to deal with a prisoner of war. She hadn't expected to deal with a spy. It was a distinction Hogan and his men were used to exploiting.

She stalked back over on absurdly high heels, graceful even in her fury, and picked Newkirk back up like a doll. "I could have made this far more pleasurable." She hissed.

"I know what you're after love. It's just another form of what VonSchloss wanted." Newkirk struggled to free his arm, pinned between his own body and hers.

"Perhaps but there are other ways to get what I want." She body slammed him backwards, this time against the liquor cabinet. "You will take my blood if I have to drink every drop of yours first."

Hogan's brain kicked into full gear, searching for a way to distract her long enough for Peter to do what he needed. He found the boot knife Newkirk had given him for Christmas last year, he had stolen it from a Gestapo who had visited the camp. It had seemed a little silly at the time, but the note under the knife came back to him.

"Not very practical I'm afraid guv. It's silver, too easy to nick up, but it would do in a pinch."

He pulled it from it sheaf, trying not to attract attention to himself. But it didn't matter, all eyes were on the woman and her captive. He wasn't a great knife thrower but he didn't need to worry about hitting a little target this time, just anything in the tangle of vampires that wasn't Newkirk.

He did it quickly, afraid to loose whatever steadiness remained or whatever nerve he had left. And it struck true, just a second before the woman tried to bury her fangs in the younger vampire's neck, hitting her in the back, the flesh hissed and smoldered.

She shrieked and pulled back, freeing Newkirk's arm and his weapon. He shoved it upwards, under her rib cage and into her heart. She opened her mouth in shock, trying to pull free of the arrow. She cried out, begging in a language Hogan had never heard before.

"Nici un copil! Te implor!"

Newkirk's response was one more hard shove on the arrow. The woman dissolved into ash, the arrow vanishing along with her.

Her brutes watched stunned. Tod gasped in amazment. "But her ring... It should have protected her."

Newkirk eased himself down to the floor. "You mean this ring mate?" He opened his left hand and in it was an ornate Sapphire ring. Hogan couldn't help but laugh.

Tod remained in place, still in shock but Henry moved to rush Peter. He was stopped by a jolly voice just behind him.

"I would do that if I were you." Schultz said, all good nature and smiles.

Henry sneered. "And why not?"

Schultz's smile grew. "Because it would be very stupid."

Henry took a step towards Newkirk, testing."And why is that?"

The smile fell from the German guards face. "Because if you so much as get close enough to breathe on him, I will kill you. I have watched over them a long time and they get into a lot of trouble. He is one of my boys, dear as one of my own sons. And you, unlike your mummy, are no match for me."

That startled Henry but he still bristled. "I am the first of The Countess's children! What can a mere werewolf do to me?"

Schultz laughed. "A wolf? Jolly joker. No I am not a wolf. I am a bear." He spoke as though educating a small child.

"What is the difference?" Henry relaxed, unsure how much he wanted to test this newcomer.

"A wolf is a divided creature, man vs beast, always fighting for control. To get anything important accomplished the two must first come to an agreement. A bear is just that, a bear. It doesn't matter what face he is wearing." Schultz's eyes turned rich Brown and he flowed into a monsterous bear over seven feet on it's hind legs. It was an effortless transformation and the raw power was clear even in his soft, fattened sides. He roared, deep and powerful, and then burped. The smell of half digested strudel and meat pie wafted over the vampire, who turned paler than pale.

Henry looked towards Newkirk, and then bowed at the waist. "You have right of conquest. What are your orders?"

The Englander pointed towards the gate. "Get out mate, and don't come back."

The vampires obeyed.

End of Part Four

Beware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster... for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you.- Friedrich Nietzsche


	5. Chapter Five

Come,' he said, 'come, we must see and act. Devils or no devils, or all the devils at once, it matters not; we fight him all the same. - Bram Stoker

Part Five

The days and weeks after Hogan's discovery of the hidden world were difficult on all of them.

Hogan was distant, fearful and hurt despite his best efforts. The knowledge of what his man had become and what he had hid from Hogan weighed heavily on the Colonel.

Newkirk sensed it and kept his distance. Most nights he was either on solo missions or given tailoring to do or paper forging. Most days he slept in preparation of the night's chores, letting the dawn sickness take him into dream less oblivion.

The isolation was hard on him. Unconsciously Hogan inserted himself into any one on one conversations Newkirk had with any of the other lads, or even companionable silence. The desire to protect the humans drove his actions.

Newkirk understood but it cut deep. His hunger for human affection was quickly outpacing his desire to feed. He found himself getting more and more listless at camp and outside of camp more and more distracted. It was a milk run that got him in trouble, a mission so simple that something had to go horribly wrong.

He went to do a dark drop of some medical supplies in a barn near Dusseldorf. But one of the underground was waiting for him.

"Newkirk! " Tiger threw her arms around him in fond embrace. He returned it, soaking in the human contact.

"'Hello luv." He planted a kiss on the top of her head.

After a moment she released him and gestured to a part of the barn they had converted into a seating area. "Merci said that Colonel Hogan found out! "She took a few sandwiches out of a picnic basket. "Have some food. "

Newkirk obeyed, biting into the soft bread and cheese. "We had a tad bit of trouble with Alder. Klink's brother was attacked in Berlin. We don't know who by or why. Klink got angry and lost control. Schultz came to get me and the guv followed, nearly got us both killed. "

Tiger nodded, she looked very worried. He could guess as to the reason. "How is he taking it? "She asked.

He wished he had a better answer to give to her. "About as well as can be expected. He won't leave me unsupervised near anything with a heart beat. He wouldn't have let me come in he knew you were going to be here. "

She sighed. "Mon cher ami, je suis tellement désolé."

He smiled sadly at her. "Merci, petite soeur."

"I had hoped he would do better. " Tiger picked at the top of her sandwich. "You are a dear friend to him. If he can fear you... "

He cut her off. "Being a Cat is not the same as being a vampire, Tiger. It would be different with you, especially now, if you told him. "

"How can you be so sure? If he doesn't want me... us, after he finds out.. It is not like we have made any promises. He has been with other women I know... He may not want to settle down. "

"Lass, the guvner would be a fool not to take you back to the Colony with him. And in the rare chance he is... You always have me mon amie. We could stay here, near your mother. I am not completely without lawful talents. "He took both her hands in his, giving the back of them a tender kiss.

She smiled. "I appreciate that Pierre. You have become like a brother to me this past year. It is good to know that no matter what happens with Robert, I will not be alone. "

He managed a smile. "Same goes for me I suppose. "

He had relaxed, got too comfortable and didn't sense the danger until it was too late. By then he was falling, a blow to the back of the head rendering him paralyzed.

Tiger didn't even realize she had led the last Lord right to him.

Newkirk was late, which did not happen much now a days. He did was needed to be done and came back, usually to sulk quietly off by himself.

Hogan scolded himself, it was an unfair thought. Newkirk was isolating himself because that was what Hogan wanted. He didn't have to say a word. It was a little spooky, but Newkirk had always been able to read him eerily well.

It was what made him a good left hand man. He always knew the truth that Hogan didn't want to admit. And many had been the times that he took care of something too difficult for Hogan to wrap his head around.

Hogan frowned, biting the inside of his cheek and wondered if this situation even had an optimal outcome. He couldn't keep going as it was now. Every time Peter yawned all the Colonel thought about was teeth. It wasn't fair to either of them. He would normally just send him back to London but what kind of life would he have there? As much as he feared what Newkirk was, he felt terrible about his own fear of a very loyal man. He also didn't know what he would do without him.

He closed his eyes to try and focus but memories kept drifting across his mind, demanding attention. He remembered Newkirk pushing him out of Alder's path, the wound he had taken because Hogan had distracted him... He remembered that the secrets Newkirk kept were not his alone.

He sighed. "If he isn't back in 15 minutes, Carter you and I will go after him. "

Carter nodded, uncharacteristically quiet as of late. He had noticed the rift between their CO and Peter lately, and it bothered him greatly.

He wondered if it had anything to do with Newkirk being a vampire now. But he couldn't ask, if Hogan didn't know he would have been opening a whole can of worms he didn't want to get into. Besides it wasn't his secret to tell.

Carter wished he knew how to let Newkirk know that Andrew was familiar with the blooded folk. At least that way Peter would know he wasn't alone. But everyone he thought about mentioning something Colonel Hogan showed up and acted really weirdly.

"Got it boy... Sir. " He responded automatically, wincing at how stupid he sounded. He had a tendency to do that when he was lost in his own thoughts. "You don't think he is in any trouble do you? I don't think he has felt good the last week or so. Do you think he is anemic? "It was too late, though he tried to shut himself up. He was already babbling. "I would imagine its pretty easy, him being a vampire and all. You know my Uncle Walks With Ducks... "He trailed off. The rest of the barracks just stared at him.

Hogan cleared his throat a few times. "Carter, my office now. "

Newkirk was aware that time had passed but he had no recollection of it. He had been in the barn with Tiger and then he was in a posh bedroom, hooked up to a IV and unable to move anything but his head.

Another man sat by the bed reading a book. He was medium height with a strong build, a clean shaven face with a strong square chin. His wide set dark blue eyes held a thoughtful kind of mania, the kind its wielder was convinced was not only reasonable but righteous.

Newkirk suppressed a shiver of terror only one other man had ever inspired in him, and that had been in Berchtesgaden.

"Ah you are awake. I apologize. I cracked your spinal column. It will be a bit before I can let you move around. "

"Brilliant. Who are you then? "

"Abraham Gabriel Van Helsing at your service." The accent was German but the man had only the faintest traces of it. The name rang a vague bell, hidden somewhere where he buried the blood memories. But he was too tired to go swimming for it.

"So what is your angle in all of this? "

"Same as the others. You represent something no one thought possible. A brand new strain of vampirism. But you, like the others VonSchloss created aren't quite finished. You need to drink vampire blood in order to complete your transformation. But unlike the others you haven't developed after the fashion of one particular strain. Whichever of the Lords convinced you to take their blood will control how your strain is completed." Van Helsings eyes were alight with a maniac hope that Newkirk couldn't understand. "I want to control the new strain. Its the future for vampires, a chance for us to change. But I have no need or desire to make this about ego. I will not play games with you. I will simply state that I cannot, will not, kill you. I also will not allow you to fall under the control of the King."

"So 'ow will you get me to do what you want? "

"I know the kind of man you are, what you won't do when threatened with your own well being..." He trailed off for a moment and then. "I have your Colonel's Tiger. She is safe for now. I can find the men you work and live with. I can find the bear and the wolf. And I will kill them one by one until you agree to what I ask of you. "

Newkirk had never known the true meaning hatred until that moment. He snarled at the creature sitting beside him. "You're bloody charming aren't you? "

It pissed the vampire lord off, as Newkirk had intended. This 'lord' was as easy to read as the common gestapo. He stood and roared, reverting to his native German. "This is beyond being likeabe! This is important! "

"The most important thing in the world? I know your type. You've probably been at it for decades, maybe even centuries. And each life you destroy, each person you kill, each shred of humanity you cut free from your soul you tell yourself is the last sacrifice, the last atrocity you will have to commit in order to bring about so much more good than all the destruction you caused. I may not understand what your goals are but I know your type. " He was prepared for the reaction, had pushed for it but there was no way to prepare for being shook by a larger man when you had a spinal injury.

It took only a moment for his captor to compose himself and let go of Newkirk. "You are a good man Peter Newkirk, a better one I think, than I ever was. VonSchloss would have done much better by you if he had just killed you. You are completely unsuited to being a vampire. But we are past that now. With what you have become I may be able to save a whole species, from the monsters they have become. "The vampire lord sounded bitter and sad, all anger gone.

Newkirk risked pushing just a little more, his breath coming in pained gasps. "Save yourself you mean? 'It a nerve there, I can tell. "

Van Helsing gritted his teeth and barked. "We are done talking, what is your answer? "

"You don't need to ask. You know my answer. You didn't leave me any other option "

"Then let's begin. "

End of Part Five

I counsel you, put down in record even your doubts and surmises. Hereafter it may be of interest to you to see how true you guess. We learn from failure, not from success. - Bram Stoker


	6. Six

To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering. - Nietzsche

PART Six

Carter squirmed under the intense stare of Colonel Hogan. The older man hadn't said anything since he had called him into the office, just stared at him. There was a lot of things in the Colonel's face, fear, confusion, just plain bone deep tiredness.

Finally Hogan asked. "How did you know? "

Carter shrugged. "I tried to tell you. My Uncle Walks With Ducks is a vampire, a different kind than Newkirk. See he is a UmberVampire, they feed mostly on animals. Down south they call them chupacabra, seem to think they are small little weird creatures. "

"Does Newkirk know you know?"

"I don't think so. I could never figure out a good way to tell him. He's been so quiet lately and before that I thought I would give him some space. You know give him time to get used it the idea. " Carter rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke, avoiding meeting Hogan's stare. "I don't think he really was though... I don't think he likes it very much. But I imagine he is awful hungry... "

It was mind blowing to Hogan. The complete and under acceptance all over Carter's embarrassed face.

Carter swallowed a few times. "I want to ask you... are you scared of him Colonel? "

Hogan nearly chocked on his own spit. It wasn't usually in Carter's nature to see things so clearly or get to the heart of the matter so quickly. He decided to play stupid. "Why would I be scared of Newkirk? "

Carter took a moment to gather his words carefully. "All things considered sir, why wouldn't you be?

Whatever Hogan had expected Carter to say, this wasn't it. "Come again? "

Carter patted the spot on the bed next to him. Hogan obeyed on a whim, sitting next to the young man. "I mean you find out you are sharing your barracks with a creature that your brother used to tell you stories about to keep you up all night. That what he eats is you. Why wouldn't you be scared? It's only natural. In my family part of becoming an adult is learning about Walks With Ducks, you remember me mentioning that he was a vampire? "

Hogan rolled his eyes but humored him. "Yes I recall. "

"You are told everything, all the good and the bad, from the time he lost control and killed the neighbor's sheep to the time he found cousin Tom in the snowstorm, that year the snowdrifts reached the roof of the barn. Then they give you time to think about it for a few days and Walks With Ducks come to see you to ask if you ever want to see him again. Those who didn't want anything to do with him eventually left and didn't come back much. " Carter spoke slowly, lost in old memories. "I was terrified when they told me. I mean this man had been around me my whole life, immortal and blood thirsty. And who could blame me? When he came to talk to me I had every intention of telling him to leave me alone... I would leave everything behind but I would be safe. " Carter frowned, disappointment with his younger self etched across his brow. For a long moment Hogan wasn't sure he was going to start talking again.

"So what happened? " He jarred the Sargent back to the present.

"Oh sorry Sir. He came to the door and my mom let him in. She smiled at him the way she always did, offered him some coffee and left us alone. We made ackward small talk..and he left an hour later without me telling him. "

"Why?"

"Because when my mother gave him his coffee I realized, my uncle had been the same since before I was born, only how I looked at him had changed. "It was like a Sunday special on the radio, the kind of thing that would only make sense to small children and Sgt. Carter. Rational people would be too busy being terrified out of their minds.

Hogan thought for a long few moments. "Carter... I can't help but feel a little maneuvered... "

"Why is that sir? I wasn't even planning on talking to you. "

Hogan sighed, he couldn't help but believe him. "Go get Klink will you? We are going to need his help. "

"Oh because werewolves smell so well?"

"Carter... "

"Yes Sir? "

"Sometimes you really frighten me. "

Alder was, unhappily, on a collar and leash. He led the way with his head out of the window of the staff car, one bark for left and two for right. They were driving at the insane speed only achieved by a terrified Frenchman trying not to think about anything, including the wolf in the passenger's seat. Or the fact that he had just been told his best friend was a vampire and the camp kommendant is said wolf in the passenger's seat.

Even Alder looked a little car sick as they took the turn into Hammelburg at nearly 80 miles an hour. He jumped out the window as soon as they slid to a stop, wobbling a little as he tried to walk straight. He growled at LeBeau, ears back.

"Ne prenez pas ce ton avec moi, chiot." LeBeau wasn't too steady himself.

Carter, Hogan and Lunch eased themselves out of the back. Hogan had a distinct green cast and Carter was crosseyed. Kinch kept a hold of the side of the car.

Alder shifted back into Klink, wearing a black ensemble close to that of the prisoners.

"That's a neat trick Kommendant. I didn't know skin walkers could change with clothes on. " Carter gushed.

Klink snarled. "Ordinarily we can't. Most wolves are just mad beasts, a great deal of them cannot even take a true wolf form. " He then colored with embarrassment. "But I am a wolf claimed by a vampire. It allows me certain extra abilities. "

"Okay... " Carter took a moment to process this and then decided it wasn't interesting so he began to walk into town.

Klink followed, sniffing the air like an with hay fever. The other three exchanged confused looks and began to follow, Hogan calling after Klink. "You are still wearing your leash! "

VanHelsing was missing a fang, his face twisted and mangled on one side under his heavy beard. Several of the teeth, fang included, had been torn out and badly healed.

Newkirk watched him though the haze of laudanum and blood. He was no longer in the bedroom, though he didn't remember moving. His back still throbbed under the haze of heavy painkillers, agrivated by how he hung strung up by runed manacles. They crackled with energy, it danced over his skin. He began to drift in and out of consciousness even before VanHelsing pulled out his dagger etched in silver.

It was a practiced motion, ceremonial, almost reverant and he took to the flow of blood like a wino to the jug.

And Newkirk thought his experience in the castle with VonSchloss had been creepy.

When it happened he half attributed it to bloodloss. Klink burst in, lease and color clashing with his black 'hunting' outfit. Hogan held on, attempting to slow the Kommandant. He looked for all the world like a toddler trying to keep ahold of a large kite.

Klink barked out a particularly vulgar German curse and lunged at the vampire. Hogan managed to let go of the leash just in time for Klink to come flying the opposite direction. The German Colonel hit the wall with a snarl and a strangled whine. But he was immediately charging again, this time as Alder.

Helsing was half stoned on the drugs he had injected into Newkirk's bloodstream but he dodged Klink with ease, grabbing a hold of Hogan instead.

The human saw stars before he realized his head had impacted the floor and a searing pain in his neck.

Strong hands grabbed the chains holding Newkirk up and yanked them out of the ceiling. The iron rings snapped. Newkirk would have fallen but for the fact one of the arms attached to those hands wrapped around his chest. Skin tore with metal as Newkirk's bounds were ripped from his wrists.

The chain became a weapon. The stranger threw the manacled end, striking VanHelsing hard enough in the head to daze him. Klink struck again, jaws grabbing the vampire lord by the back of the neck.

In the hall Carter and LeBeau heard teeth crushing bones. It was an unmistakably, viserale, instinctual sound. The Frenchman turned green. Carter just started to move faster.

End of Part Six

You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star. - Friedrich Nietzsche


	7. Seven

"I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other."

Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley

Part Seven

The stranger guided Newkirk's limp body to the stone floor and put one pale wrist up to Newkirk's mouth and gashed the delicate vein over the fledgling's fangs. Blood welled up and flowed over his teeth, coating his tongue and running down his throat in a rush.

His body greedily absorbed it, pulling all that it had lacked to complete the transformation that had begun when his heart stopped in the Castle cell.

The blood flowed electric with power and ancient memories, memories of the King of Vampires. The blood of the first one was like drinking alcohol while on cough syrup. He simultaneously leaned into it and tried to get away from the stranger holding him in place.

"Be still! " The command needed no magic to cease his struggle, the air of authority was enough in his confused state. "Sleep little one, and become whole. The King's voice became soft, paternal in its gentleness and laced with potent magic. Newkirk plunged into cold, empty darkness of vampiric sleep.

Alder nudged Hogan with his nose. There was no scent of being bitten on the man, just a long series of claw marks on his neck and shoulder. The worst of it was the head injury but the wolf was reassured when the human groaned. In his relief he licked Hogan sloppily on the cheek and neck.

"Gross. " The American protested weakly, every part of him aching... or slobbery.

Alder yipped like a happy puppy and put his front legs to the floor, butt up and, after a completely appropriate amount of licking, attempted to push Hogan up with his massive wet snout.

Carter and LeBeau finally caught up to them, the little Frenchman being pulled around by the taller American. The scent of blood was enough to make him woozy.

Hogan pushed himself away from the very cold nose. "Okay! I am getting up! "

Alder shifted into Klink and proceeded much more gently to get Hogan to his feet. His face was flushed embarrassed red.

Hogan looked around for the man who they had come to rescue. "Newkirk! " He called out, the englishman nowhere in sight.

A little buff tiger tabby cat sauntered in as if she owned the place and rubbed on Hogan's ankles. "Meow. Meow. " She remarked seriously.

Klink bared his teeth at the cat's taunt but kept silent. His mind gave way to Alder's, sinking into the primal world of scent.

"Still in the house." He informed Hogan. "The King probably moved him up stairs."

"The King? The other Lord he has been talking about? "

"Der König des Blutes, Dracula selbst." Klink moved reluctantly after the scent of vampires, one more ancient than Klink's own species.

Everything in him, but the need for pack, told him to run back to Stalag 13. Alder only had the vampire and the humans searching for him, so he pushed his human side forward, ever so cautiously. His shoes were soundless on the stone floor.

Hogan shuddered at the name Dracula. And the set his face in grim determination. Wobbling as he went he followed after the werewolf.

The other humans followed like a herd of sheep after a Shepherd dog.The cat trailed behind, just happening to be going the same direction as the two legged folk.

It was handy to know that there was never any need to clean blood off of a full Nosferatu vampire, even off of their clothes.It was all drawn into the body through the skin.

It had been the downfall of many a vampire slayer that they had assumed that their prey needed to get the blood into their mouths.

It also meant that Dracula didn't need to worry about the linens as he gently set his youngest child on the same bed Van Healing had confined him earlier.

He lay as though sleeping through the daylight, despite the late hour, the bloody scars on his wrists and neck closing slowly but surely.

There was very little of Newkirk that favored his grandmother Wilhelmina. The boy must favor his father.

But when Dracula had first seen Von Schloss's victims he could not deny Newkirk's eyes. They were feral eyes, full of pain and fury, eyes that dared the world to try one more thing. They were her eyes, his Light, and full of her strength.

The child had stood defiantly between him and the new wolf, barely able to keep his balance. He was not the same as the others, no doubt due to the taint of the dhampir inherent in the Harker line. That tiny sliver of vampiric ability had been more evident in Quincy than his sisters but it had obviously breed true.

This was an unfinished creature yes, but no mad thing full of only hunger like those the King put down in the months since their first meeting.

He should have realized that even in madness VanHelsing would realize the child's heritage, and desired him for his own. Such a victory that would have been for the German physician to steal one of her children away from him.

But Dracula had never been far since the Castle, waiting for the boy to get into some trouble he couldn't get himself out of. Waiting for a moment when the child could not refuse him.

It had taken more time than expected... If he had known such a descendant was in Germany when he had passed through two years ago he would have claimed him before Von Schloss had ever known he had existed.

He heard the humans and the wolf heading upstairs, the soft patter of werecat footsteps. He appropriated Van Helsing's pipe and took a seat next to the bed.

The King looked younger than he did at the Castle. Klink grimaced at the thought as he stood in the doorway. No doubt a noble family nearby was missing a daughter or young wife, or any mix of the two.

He led the way into the room, motioning the humans to stay behind him. Pretending that would save anyone if Dracula felt peckish or unfriendly steadied his hands a little.

"Come in little wolf. Bring in your friends, they are safe enough at this juncture. I am sated for now, even with my expenditures tonight. " In many ways Dracula reminded Klink of Hogan, dark hair and eyes with a solid handsome face and a smile you couldn't help but trust... or fear.

Alder whimpered in the back of Klink's mind, no braver than his human half against this enemy.

Hogan had the luxury of ignorance. He pushed past Klink. "Is he alright? "

Dracula smiled, but there was no trace of mirth or kindness in it and he did not remove the pipe from his mouth. "Define 'alright?'"

Hogan frowned and looked at Klink. Klink shrugged. "He smells different... "Was all the Kommendant could offer. "More like the King now. "

Dracula's smile widened into a parody of sincerity. "He is one of mine now, completed. "

"Completed? "

"Even more for you to fear mortal. " Dracula mocked him. Hogan nearly took a step back but instead squared his shoulders and forced himself to make eye contact.

Whatever response the King would have made was swallowed when he noticed Carter.

Carter stared at Dracula for a long moment, deep in thought, and then smiled. It was soft and happy.

Dracula lost his composure in the light of it momentarily. "And what are you thinking little one? "

"Well you are like Newkirk's dad now aren't you? He really didn't have one of those before, or at least he never talks about his dad. Its kinda swell he gets a new one. "

"Carter.. " Hogan hissed a concerned warning.

But Dracula laughed, long and deep. "You little one, you... I like. Completely insane I'm sure. "

"Thank you sir, I like you too. " Carter answered Dracula, no fear in him at all. It was endearingly, and ignorantly, brave.

The cat sauntered into the room and jumped on the bed, sparing a disdainful look and a hiss at the elder vampire before settling down on the pillow to gently groom Newkirk's hair. A deep rumbling purr could be heard across the room even by the humans.

Carter walked over and began to pet the creature, standing awfully close to Dracula

"I don't normally leave children unattended, and now more than ever he needs instruction and protection. " Dracula addressed Klink, as the only creature in the room (besides Carter) he felt worth giving any attention to.

Klink's features merged with Alder's for a moment and he snarled. "You left him to the mercy of The Lords and The Castle. "

"Don't test me Wolf." Dracula snarled, wild and feral. " His existence was not expected. If I had known one of Harker's children was in Germany, one like him, I would have tore him out of your Stalag some time ago. And you would still be a sniveling wreck of a man."

Klink took a step forward before his senses caught up with him. Rage swirled in his eyes. Hogan caught him by the shoulder.

"Easy Kommendant. If he was going to take him... They would be gone already." Hogan swayed but his voice was steady. "He knows enough about Peter to know what Newkirk would do if he did take him away. "

"You are wise for a man so afraid. "

"Underneath what he has become, what you made him, what Von Schloss did to him, Peter Newkirk still exists. You would only slow down his return to Stalag 13."

"True, perhaps by several centuries... But vampires need mortals as surely as they need wolves. Perhaps after the war he will come to Romania, come home. "

"Perhaps. "

"Then I will take my leave. Be careful Colonel. You have the love and loyalty of a Nosferatu. It is a unique and terrible thing and we are far more vulnerable than you may believe. "

End of Part Seven

"With how many things are we on the brink of becoming acquainted, if cowardice or carelessness did not restrain our inquiries."

Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley


	8. One Shot I

I am a bit stuck so for a little bit you are going to have some one shots in this series. This takes place a few months after our last chapter.

The glass vial was half full, the blood inside aged and thickened. Newkirk studied it, knowing full well what it meant, while the others had just begun to catch on. Their contact, the American General, was dead and this was all that was left.

If they were a normal underground unit this would have been the end of the road. But the unit at Stalag 13 was far from normal.

He pulled the stopper from the vial but the blood was too old to pour so he crushed the vial instead. The glass sliced his skin and his own sanguine flow rushed to greedily consume its contents.

His mates watched in mute fascinated horror. It had been a few months since the King had completed his transformation and there had been no shortage of weird unsettling thing he had proved capable of. However this was the most unsettling.

His blood flowed backwards back into his cut and it sealed behind it, leaving unblemished skin. As it healed Newkirk shifted. He drew himself up to his full height, head held level and spine as straight as an arrow. It was perfect military posture, jarring on Newkirk's form.

He looked around, studying and assessing the room and its occupants. When he looked at Hogan he smiled, fond and proud. "Giving the dead a voice. Even for you Robbie that's impressive. " The voice spoke in unblemished American English.

Hogan was deathly pale, his eyes wide as saucers. He tried to smile but just enter up looking sick. He managed to grind out. "Not my parlor trick. "

Newkirk nodded thoughtfully. He looked down at the desk and, grabbing Kinch's notebook and pencil, he began to jot down a series of symbols. "London said you would be able to decode this. I have no idea what it means... It was safer that way.

Hogan stared stricken at his English operative. "I am so sorry Sir." He barely managed a whisper. His voice was heavy with sorrow, and regret.

Newkirk finished his drawing and looked up at Hogan again. His spoke in a chiding tone. "Don't you dare go blaming yourself Robbie. I'm an old soldier, I knew the risks. My only regret was... Well now that I've seen you I don't really have any. I am very proud of you. "

"Sir... " Hogan's throat closed up, forcing the words back down.

Newkirk grabbed Hogan by the shoulders and looked his straight in the eyes. "Don't leave it unsaid. "

"But it's not really you. "

"It's the closest you are going to get. Say it, we don't have a lot of time. "

The other men watched transfixed as Hogan grabbed Newkirk's lapels and pulled him close enough to whisper in his ear. "I'm... I'm going to miss you Dad. "

Newkirk pulled Hogan into a bear hug. "I love you too son. I'm sorry I couldn't make it home properly this time. "

Hogan lost all the composer he had left and set his head on Newkirk's shoulder, weeping bitterly.

What could have been seconds or hours later he heard Newkirk speak in his own voice full of magic. "Go to sleep Guv. "


	9. Rivals

This has not been beta read. all mistakes are mine.

Fixed a missing sentence.

The vampire blocked the cross, grabbing it easily at the joining. It didn't produce so much as a sizzle. He yanked it from the young man's grasp. "Easy there, I have more faith in that particular symbol you are holding than you do." He gently pushed his attacker backward and set the cross down on the desk. "You are not a very good hunter are you?" He had a strong cockney accent and his eyes glittered in amusement. "Also…" He sniffed the air. "You must be new to try something this stupid. And you don't smell familiar…so the name is Newkirk, Peter – Corporal."

"Thomas Bakerson, Private…" The blonde child stammered out, unsure of the odd turn this night had taken. "I just got here two days ago." He was American, with those blue eyes that marked him as one of Carter's ilk – those of the eternally optimistic.

"Makes sense – I haven't been awake in three." The vampire gestured to the seat by the desk, "The Colonel will be along in a minute – best take a seat. You will need to explain yourself. We don't take attacks on other men lightly around here."

"But you are a…!" The word died in his throat. "What are you, sir? You aren't like any vampire my parents ever told me about. I haven't seen a single thrall the last three days – a master vampire doesn't go without a thrall or two at least."

The vampire's eyes shifted red for a moment when he used the terms 'master' and 'thrall'."A master vampire? Well, I'm not as uppity as that – I'm the only vampire around here and I've worked hard to keep it that way. Besides the Colonel is in charge and while a good many of us may fit the definition of Thrall, considering all the bloody stupid things we do for him, no one listens to me. And how would you even be able to tell? You obviously don't have a clue what you are doing."

"Well I would sense them wouldn't I? The way I sensed you."

"How should I know?"

"Peter! You are awake!" Kinch came through the office doors and wrapped the vampire in a fond embrace with the vampire awkwardly returned.

"All parts of me seem to be functioning this evening, yeah. Where is the Guv?" He distanced himself from the SGT quickly, almost nervously.

"He and Louis went out – last minute underground thing. Tiger came by with a few things for you. I put them down in your sewing room. "Bakerson? What are you doing in here?"

"Trying to stake me…bit of Hunter in the bloodline. Probably thought his parents were crackers and then a funny little feeling hits him and he's trying to end my afterlife."

If the vampire's reactions seemed a little too relaxed, the glare that SGT Kincheloe gave him was anything but. Bakerson felt a cold chill run down his spine. "I didn't know!" He squeaked.

"Didn't know what?" Kinch ground out, towering over the slender private.

Bakerson bolted to hide behind the vampire, betting it was safer than standing by Kinch. "I didn't know he was…manageable."

Newkirk chuckled and Kinch's face softened. "Manageable? You obviously don't know me. Give the kid a break Kinch; it's in his blood you know. It's almost like the hunger, hard to ignore."

Kinch backed off and took a seat on the bunk. "Alright, Newkirk but you are going to have to explain that to the Colonel and he is feeling a bit overprotective right now."

Peter moved away from the kid and leaned against the wall, pulling a cigarette he lit it but let it sit between his fingers. "Considering how I feel, I can imagine…what happened the other night?"

Kinch frowned and set his elbows on his knees so he could lean forward. "You don't remember?"

The vampire shook his head and then took a long drag from his cigarette before answering. "No…nothing after we left Wirtshaus." His eyes were turning red around the edges, the only sign that he was uneasy, the rest of him so relaxed he was nearly boneless.

Every nerve in Bakerson was on edge screaming that he was in danger – but the vampire just leaned against the wall and smoked.

Kinch waited until Newkirk was on the second cigarette to answer and the vampire did not prompt him for an answer. "We probably should wait for the Colonel" He looked at Bakerson as if remembering he was there "and for the kid to leave, lest he loses his belief that you are….manageable."

Peter took another long drag, impossibly long for a human and then blew out the smoke like a dragon. "Hilarious mate" He rolled his eyes, knowing that Kinch was passing the buck rather than trying to protect the Private, "but I don't think I am going to shock the kid. He grew up with stories about all the bumps in the night I wager."

Kinch swallowed, his nervousness growing stronger. His voice went soft. "You may change your mind when you hear the story, Peter." A scent caught Newkirk's interest as Kinch talked, something sour and wrong but before he could pin it down a new voice rang out from the doorway.

"I thought meetings in my office were supposed to have me in them?" Colonel Hogan smirked at the occupants of his office, clearly pleased with himself about something. His eyes swept over Kinch, then Bakerson, then Newkirk – his mischievous grin turning to a thoughtful frown.

"Good to see you up, Newkirk."

His reaction was not lost on Newkirk. Hogan couldn't even muster up a front of excitement. Instead he seemed even more nervous than Kinch. "Good to be up Guv. Though next time yew 'ave a 'un'er runnin' loose around da place, yew may wan' ter leave a note on me bedside table. Terrible shock yew know an' I can't 'andle much mawer ov those dis year."

"English Peter." The Colonel chided, his eyes glazing over from the stream of slang assaulting his senses. It had the desired effect, the Colonel relaxed.

"That was English." The vampire smirked. "Long and short of it – you have a hunter here and he tried to brain me with a cross." He inclined his head to Bakerson who smiled and waved sheepishly. "He has no real training and no idea what he is doing."

"Then what makes him a hunter?"

Newkirk's eyes unfocused for a second, becoming almost entirely red before snapping back to their grey blue – like he was stopping to remember something from a long time ago."Blood mostly – the urge to hunt and kill the undead is as strong in his blood and the urge to kill and eat humans is in mine. Only I'm guessing there isn't a lot of undead in…I am going to guess Kansas." He lit a third cigarette.

Bakerson smiled a small painful smile. "Indiana sir but good guess and no – no one in my family knows anything but Grandpa's stories. His very, very detailed stories. I thought he was crazy…until I saw Corporal Newkirk and followed him in here."

Hogan looked at both men, imagining what that scene had looked like. "Well, that was incredibly…"

"Stupid…" Bakerson filled in the word that Hogan really hadn't wanted to use. "I know Sir. I just couldn't help myself."

"Well, since Peter actually seems to be in better shape than last I saw him so I will overlook it this time but no repeat performances. You are excused Private. Go back to your barracks and get some sleep, it's getting late."

Bakerson fled: his relief so palpable that Peter wrinkled his nose. Kinch stood and excused himself, closing the door behind him – leaving Hogan and Peter to stare at each other for several long moments. Peter extinguished his cigarette in the desk ashtray giving Hogan plenty of time to break the silence. When he declined to do so; Peter took a seat in the sole chair by the desk. "What happened?" It was a plea more than a demand though his voice was hard.

Hogan took a seat on the bunk and sighed, a long tired sigh. "What do you remember last?

"Wirtshaus."

"Wirtshaus?" Hogan blinked, the shock evident on his face. "Newkirk, that was nearly two weeks ago."

Peter smelled the lie and swore, in German, English and a few languages Hogan had never heard before but he didn't seem surprised – just livid. His eyes went pure red even through the white and he snarled. "I thought I smelled Blood Magic when I woke." Then he stopped and looked at Hogan, taking a delicate sniff and then another deeper one. An expression that Hogan had not seen before, and never wanted to again, came over his face – an expression of possessive rage. "Colonel – show me your neck." Command tinged his voice and Hogan obeyed without a second thought or even a twinge of irritation.

Newkirk stared for a moment at two small nearly invisible holes above the carotid artery on his CO's neck and growled. "You have been feed on in the last 24 hours."

Hogan pulled away in shock, snapping out of Newkirk's command. His eyes were wide as saucers. "What! That's impossible. You keep all the others away from here." Even as he spoke he didn't doubt his man, Newkirk didn't make this sort of stuff up even if he did look like you could knock him down with a feather – if he smelled a vampire there was one to smell.

Newkirk sniffed again this time Hogan's lapels, latching onto his jacket with long fingers and getting entirely too close for comfort. "Female, a Sister…" He pulled back releasing Hogan, eyes now black, fangs descended and skin as pale as a winter's moon. Hogan had never seen him look less human and shivered despite himself.

The smell of fear brought Peter back to himself and he took several steps back his eyes turning back to human eyes full of fear and self-loathing. Fingernails cut half moon rivulets of blood into his palms. He swayed, his reserves not up for the events of the evening. He had not fed in three days and his wounds had taken so much out of him. He sat back down on the chair, propping his head up in his hands, fingers twisted in his dark, disheveled hair. Then suddenly, something that had been nagging at him in the back of his mind surged to the forefront of his thoughts and he sat up straight, pinning his confused guvner with his gaze."Where is Klink?"


	10. Rivals 2

It was an unbreakable thing – the compulsion of a werewolf set down by a vampire. They were created to serve the Elder and Countess Mioara was one of the Eldest. She had left Klink with her orders and she had left with confidence – sure that he could never break free. There should have been nothing on the Earth, baring the King himself, which could have broken it. It took him three days.

The problem was she did not know Klink very well and the kind of relationship that he had with the English vampire was not what was to be expected by a traditional vampire like herself.

It was perhaps as far removed than the expected as possible. As vampires went Newkirk was very big on those around him maintaining their free will and since it was so very easy for Peter to subjugate the living and lesser creatures, even by accident, he had made arrangements for those were-creatures he dealt with on a regular basis to protect them. So while the spell had hit Klink, wrapping him in its bindings, it didn't really sink in, in the way it was supposed to instead it hit tiny, nearly imperceptible threads of warding that ran all through Klink's being. These did several things but in essence, all those things protected him from magic.

If only that worked on human beings – the rest of the camp was probably a bewitched mess…well, Carter was probably safe. Though not technically in thrall to Peter he was an enthusiastic volunteer in the few times that Peter had been forced to directly feed on a human and he had followed the other man around like a puppy even before Klink and Newkirk had turned. That had left the two of them connected in a way that Klink found difficult to understand but he could smell it. And what he could smell, he knew was real.

When he did manage to break free he exploded into his wolf for like an inferno tearing across the yard and into the barracks. He could smell Her everywhere but it wasn't fresh so she wasn't close. He wondered what mischief she was seeking to pull her from camp and her…work. When he hit Hogan's office and saw his Pack awake and mostly whole he threw himself at Peter like a puppy that hadn't seen its Master in a fortnight.

Peter allowed him to put his paws up on his shoulders but grabbed his muzzle before he could lick him on the face, instead putting his snout over the vampire's shoulder and wrapping trembling arms around the wolf's neck. Alder breathed in contentment – savoring the feel of being with his Pack Alpha.

Klink, however, took a step back and shifted – colored red in his embarrassment. Both the Englishman (less so) and his other half (so much more so) were more demonstrative when it came to affection than he was comfortable with. "Geht es dir gut Newkirk?"

"Nein, bin ich nicht," Peter answered, shaking his head angrily. "How did a ruddy vampire get into camp? There is blood magic dripping…everywhere."

Klink winced a little at Newkirk's tone – it was beyond livid and made a face at the image Peter's description summoned. There was a bit of blame in there, the werewolf was supposed to be watching camp when the vampire was indisposed. He shrugged sheepishly. "She came in with Papa Bear and the cubs. You were unconscious and everyone else was heavily compelled. There was nothing I could do but try to unravel my own binding when she placed it."

Peter signed and nodded, accepting his assessment of the situation. He knew the Kommandant's weaknesses almost as well as his own. Wolves were not meant to stand up to Blutesser. "She has the Colonel well gob stopped, and the other mates as well I am sure. Though…she may be having a hard time with Carter. I haven't seen him..."

Klink nodded – it was possible. Carter may be their best ally in camp due to his… unique condition.

Hogan was sure he should feel insulted, alarmed or at the very least upset about…something. But he existed in a fog where only slight unease could penetrate. When he spoke the words didn't seem to come from his mind – he more felt like a recording. And since Newkirk had commanded him to show him his neck, and his initial outburst of denial, he had more or less just stood still, waiting for more instructions. Deep inside he thought he heard his own voice screaming.

"What can you do?" Klink stared at Hogan, the Colonel looking mildly back at him. "I can smell the weakness on you. You won't be able to break her spell with the amount of magic you have at the moment."

Peter gave him a withering glare but didn't argue. If he concentrated he could feel Her hold on the Colonel and it was strong. Hogan was well on his way to becoming a Thrall to Her. There was no spell that he knew of (not that extensive of a list) that could free his Colonel. But…maybe…

A thought occurred to him, a dangerous thought. "I may not be able to break it but I may be able to slow it down." He held out his hand to Hogan. "Give me your hand Colonel." He was instantly obeyed. "You are probably going to hate me forever but this will get us a bit of time to get this mess figured out."

Hogan blinked dollishly at Peter, even as the vampire put his wrist up to his very sharp canines and bit into the flesh and veins underneath. Clarity, pain and pure bliss washed away the fog in Hogan's mind as the vampire's saliva released endorphins and a drug very similar to opium poppy into Hogan's system. The hold of the Countess over his mind dulled and grew distant as Newkirk's presence swept over his brain, pushing at the magic that held Hogan captive, and running his own enchantments over the American's being. At that moment Hogan began to see why the Countess had seemed so uneasy when they had first run into her and why when Peter was unconscious she seemed so much more confident. Her power came from age and age alone but Peter was much stronger than he should have been (by comparison) for having been turned less than a year before.

Too soon Peter opened his mouth to release him and licked the wounds on his wrist to seal them. The Colonel barely suppressed a moan of disappointment as his high crested and then fell back into a mild buzz. His face colored but he managed to fight the urge to crawl under his desk and hide.

Peter stepped back, struggling with his own side effects. He was not used to direct feeding. He frankly avoided it at all costs. He had only ever done it on a few occasions with Carter (each an emergency) and the vampire had been optimistic and pyromaniac for a week. This was much worse – everything that the Colonel was rushed him like he was the enemy lines the sheer force of his personality and the intensity of his emotions was overwhelming. He sat down on the floor, wrapping long arms around knobby knees and stared at a spot on the floor. He didn't try to fight it – the force of Hogan's personality was too strong, instead, he just let it rush over him and drop into the back of his mind, coating his own personality like a rainstorm on dry ground. He would eventually dry out and be very nearly the same person he was before.

When he finally heard Hogan's voice on the outside it was clear that the American had been trying to catch his attention for several long minutes. Klink stared anxiously over the Colonel's shoulder. Peter grabbed hold of Hogan's resolve and confidence, wrapping it around him like a blanket. It was going to be with him for a while; he might as well take advantage of it.

"Newkirk? Are you alright?" Hogan was trying not to freak out…Newkirk could tell – a great deal of his brain was operating under the concept that it was Hogan and he knew Hogan very well.

"No, not really." The words came out with none of his standard inflections – it was as American as apple pie. He stared up at the few pictures Hogan had on the wall, recognizing friends and missing family members whose names he hadn't known three minutes before. He shut his eyes tight like a child trying not to see the dark in his room. "This is why vampires are crazy you know…" He forced a little of the proper accent into the words but it was far from perfect.

"Yah." Hogan pulled him up onto his feet and helped him sit on the edge of the bunk. "I know – thanks."

Peter collapsed onto the bunk, face first. "Not really something you should be thanking me for." The blankets helped muffle how odd he sounded. It was Peter's actual voice but it was the same inflection, the same tone, the same emotions that he heard in his own.

Hogan patted his man on the back. The situation had been far from ideal but he knew that there had been no other choice. His thoughts and mind still felt leashed but the one holding the lease was giving him plenty of slack. "It had to be done. How did you know that would work?"

"You cannot be mine and hers at once. It may not work long haul." He pushed himself up so he could look Hogan in the eye. "She is beyond me." They both ignored the fact that Hogan immediately dropped his eyes when their gazes met, nearly submissive in body language.

There was silence for too long a moment and then they both said, to attempt to comfort the other "We will figure something out."

More than a little creeped out, Klink decided it was time to make his exit and check on the rest of the camp.

Peter was weak enough to sleep – something he had only done a handful of time since he died. The daytime somnolence wasn't truly sleep – his body just stopped and it was seldom that he had any recollection of even the passing of time between dawn and dusk. Sleep, on the other hand, was rare and happened only when something was wrong. He had not taken enough of Hogan's blood to do more than raise his condition from rundown to exhausted.

Hogan let him rest, covering him with a blanket and going to check on the state of the other men. Most seemed to be tired, in a daze or just uninterested in whatever they were doing. And then there was Carter – having a full-blown animated conversation with his mouse as they sat on Newkirk's old bunk.

"Oh hey, Colonel." The SGT looked down at his CO. Everything about him seemed normal for him – his hair was sticking straight up, his eyes held a half-mad gleam and his lunch was being shared with a very talkative rodent.

Hogan nodded at the other American. "Carter." His wrist twitched as he looked up at Carter – feeling a strange connection with the young man like there was a thread connecting them.

"You feeling better Colonel? You've been a bit out of it…just like everyone else to think about it." He looked around at the rest of the barracks.

"Yah Carter – feeling much better. Why don't you put Felix to bed and come into my office? I need to talk to you about something."

"You got it, boy…Sir."

The younger man followed him into his office, a constant stream of chatter flowing up and over Hogan unheard and unacknowledged. It did not stop a single word from its frenzied fall to the floor.


End file.
